


Valentine's Box

by ChickenGoesMoo, Devral



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Penetration, Colossus makes a brief appearance, Isn't it Bromantic Spideypool Valentine's Day Challenge, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, but don't worry!, doesn't leave a lot of room to ask first, it's a thing, it's just, they both want it, we made it a thing!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22727338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChickenGoesMoo/pseuds/ChickenGoesMoo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devral/pseuds/Devral
Summary: Spider-Man and Deadpool do Valentine’s Day the same way they do every year; fight bad guys together! This year however, they end up closer than they ever imagined possible when they are locked in a very small crate together with no way out.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 35
Kudos: 696
Collections: Isnt't It Bromantic - Spideypool Valentine's Day Challenge 2020





	Valentine's Box

**Author's Note:**

> We bring to you... drum roll please!
> 
> dumdumdumdumdumbadahdum
> 
> ACCIDENTAL PENETRATION!!
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!

Valentine's Day seemed a day like any other. 

That was to say, Spider-Man and Deadpool were once again fighting for their lives, cornered in a warehouse with seemingly unbeatable odds and yet luckily still winning. That was something they always seemed to be doing, so why break the nightly tradition because of a silly holiday made to be spent peacefully with the ones you love? 

Not like Peter had anyone but Deadpool to spend his day or night with lately, but he totally wasn’t going to let his mercenary, turned patrol buddy, turned friend know that. He totally wasn’t going to let Wade know he was thinking of him just moments before he got the call requesting backup. He definitely wasn’t going to mention the shower, and he absolutely _wasn’t_ going to mention the bottle of lube and the handheld boyfriend he had been working himself over with before he had been interrupted by the very man he had been fantasizing about. 

That was what had landed Peter there, in the middle of a fight that was quickly getting out of hand as more and more men stormed the building. Peter was running out of webbing, and Wade had long since thrown his guns at unsuspecting bad guys when he had run out of bullets and unsheathed his swords. 

Now, as far as fighting went, Spider-Man could dodge a great many things thrown his way. Deadpool couldn’t dodge things quite as easily considering his body mass and lack of enhanced senses, but he could _survive_ absolutely anything. Unfortunately, the unknown gas that suddenly filled the room of the drug cartel they were trying to take down was _not_ something tangible that could be avoided by either of them, despite their powers. Luckily enough, it _did_ instantly knock out all of the peons they had been up against.

When the second set of fighters came in, this group much bigger than the first with their facial features obscured by gas masks, neither Spider-Man nor Deadpool stood much of a chance. Even Deadpool’s healing factor wasn’t enough to compete against the gas and their coordination was getting sloppy, their aim was off, and they began to fumble, slip and trip over anything, everything, and nothing all at the same time. The fight after that was quick. Both were knocked over the head and their semiconscious bodies dragged over to a repurposed weapon’s locker. 

To Peter, it felt like a comedy of errors as the heavily armored group of masked men tried to figure out how to get both Deadpool and Spider-Man to fit in a single, metal box. They dropped Peter in first and he sluggishly tried to move, fight, or maybe even say something obnoxious. Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough to get even a word in edgewise before they were dropping Deadpool in on top of him. Hilariously, when the bad guys tried to shut the container the first time, it didn’t work. Peter’s head was swimming, but he still managed to hear the agitated complaining as they dragged Deadpool’s body back out and forcefully repositioned Peter like a mother cat repositioned a kitten. Then, with little to no ceremony , they dropped Deadpool facedown on top of him again. 

And once again, the lid hit Deadpool’s hip and pressed them both down, but still wouldn’t close all the way. 

This time the swearing was louder. They yanked Deadpool out for the second time. It quieted down into discussion but Peter’s ears still seemed muffled by whatever the gas had done to him. They seemed to come to a decision, which good on them for actually thinking this time, and reached in to rearrange Peter once again. They dragged him to his knees instead of letting him slip over onto his side before tossing Deadpool in on top of him. Luckily for the bad guys, they were finally able to get the lid on with a heavy and ominous sounding click. Not long after Peter could tell by the vibration that they were being dragged. 

Once Peter was able to shake whatever had been in the gas long enough to take full account of the situation and his body, he realized the case was just barely tall and deep enough that Peter and Wade had only fit with Peter mostly on his hands and knees with Wade’s whole front pressed intimately along the line of Peter’s back. On top of that, Wade’s much longer and thicker legs were bent at an uncomfortable angle between Peter’s own splayed knees. No wonder it had taken the henchmen so long to figure out how to finagle both of them into the box. 

It was dark in the box, and the heavy weight on Peter’s back wasn’t as punishing as it might have been without his powers. It was still cumbersome, though, and a little uncomfortable being trapped in such a position with Wade on his back, especially with the way his full weight bore down on him due to his unconscious state. Even worse, in that position it was easy for Peter to forget himself and imagine Wade embracing him from behind for a completely different reason that absolutely did not deserve to be brought to light in a hostage type situation. Especially with Wade in the state he was.

Whoever had taken care of Deadpool before dropping him in the box had obviously been a little harder on him than they had been on Peter. That, or they had smacked his head a little too hard one of the times they were closing the case on top of them. Peter could feel and smell the stench of blood dripping down his neck from a wound he could only assume was Wade’s, considering it didn’t hurt and the other man _still_ hadn’t woken up. It tickled, and at that angle and the added weight of Wade on his shoulders, he couldn’t even reach up and wipe it away. He was forced in the extreme pitch black silence of the box to focus on the way the thin material around his neck got steadily warmer as the blood soaked into the thin fabric of his suit. It probably wouldn’t have felt as uncomfortable if he had been given the chance to put anything on beneath his costume. He usually wore at least an undershirt and boxers, but the call for backup mid shower had forced Peter to slip the suit on without even bothering to dry his hair in order to rush to Wade’s rescue. 

The box began moving, harsh forward jerks like someone was dragging them. The motion continued to ram both Peter’s and Wade’s heads into the front of the box, and while he wished someone was there to share in his misery, it was probably for the best Wade was still out. The box suddenly stopped rocking and instead trembled and shook. Peter suspected one of the men had put a forklift to work. Whatever was happening, they were no doubt being loaded in somewhere. Listening intently, he heard the faint sound of an engine start up, and once again, the box was moving, this time to the bumps in the road. 

He really hoped Wade wouldn’t be out for too much longer. The position of his face on the back of Peter’s neck was starting to get uncomfortable. The blood had stopped dripping but the moist heat from Wade’s breath was traveling up to his face, making Peter feel unusually hot. Maybe that was also to do with the fact they were trapped in a giant metal box that didn’t have much, if any, air circulation. Hopefully there were holes big enough that they wouldn’t suffocate. Peter supposed that they would figure that one out sooner rather than later if his quick math was correct. 

Every time he tried to shift enough to pull the blood drenched fabric of his suit away from his neck, Deadpool’s still dead weight would shift. The man was heavy enough that Peter was feeling more than a little uncomfortably crushed now. There was a gun digging uncomfortably into his thigh and the way the bad guys had dropped them in together had Wade’s lower body very intimately pressed in places Peter would rather they weren’t pressed. 

Peter was just getting ready to shift again when Wade groaned into his neck.

“Fuuuuuuuck… Did you get the plate of the truck that ran us over?” There was a thump as the pressure against Peter’s back let up a little. “What the shit? Why am I stuck on top of you? Also, that’s definitely blood my face is pressed up against. Are you bleeding? I’d recognize that smell anywhere.” 

“Bad guys threw us in here and you proceeded to bleed all over my neck. The blood’s not mine.” 

Wade made an outraged noise. “Never mind the blood then. Why the fudge knuckles did they figure doggy style was the best way to go?”

“You missed the game of human Tetris they were playing before this position was agreed upon.”

“Rude. They didn’t even ask me if I wanted to top or bottom,” Wade tsked. “They just don’t make villains the way they used to.”

“We’ll have to put in a complaint at the henchman production facility when we get out of here.”

Wade nodded his head against the back of Peter’s neck, sending an involuntary shiver through his body. “Yes! This is a travesty. I would have voted for me on bottom if they had asked! It’s my favorite, you know. Little spoon. I like to feel like someone has my back, you know?”

“If we get out of this, I will personally big spoon you to celebrate still being alive. As it is, I don’t know how much air we have left, or if they put holes in the box.”

“There is definitely air coming from somewhere,” Deadpool answered assuredly. “The box is still moving. People don’t take a box full of superheroes that could potentially have trackers on them unless they have plans. Most would leave them in the box and hope they died, or they would hope the box was enough of a distraction that they could escape. They want us alive for something.”

That, unfortunately, made a lot of sense. “Shit. I left my phone at home. Do you have anything that I could use to send out a signal?”

“My phone is in my belt, but I don’t know if I can reach it in this position,” Wade said. “It’s kinda in a pouch right up against your wonderfully plush rear. Ten out of ten, by the way. Would park here again if given the opportunity willingly.”

Peter definitely wouldn’t mind a repeat performance either, so long as the awkwardly bulky utility belt was left out of the picture. Still, it was definitely- “Not the time, Wade.”

The box thumped heavily as whatever vehicle was transporting them hit some kind of pothole or bump, and Wade’s pelvis and hip bones were pressed hard into Peter’s back and ass. 

“Ouch, crap,” Peter yelped. 

“Damnit! What happened, you okay?” 

“Your gun is biting pretty hard into my… upper leg. Lower back. Whatever you want to call it.” Peter suppressed another yelp as they hit another bump. “Can you move it?”

Wade wiggled, obviously trying to stuff his arm down between them but barely getting the tips of his long fingers between them. “Yeah, I’ll grab the phone and then try to shift it. Let me just--”

Another bump rocked them against each other. Peter heard a muffled thump and he let out a relieved sigh as he felt the gun slide down and hit the floor between his legs. 

“Uh, shit.”

The words sounded far less promising. 

“What?”

“I might have dropped it,” Wade admitted, shoving his face deeper into Peter’s neck at the shamed admission, making Peter nearly gasp at the placement of Wade’s sharp nose and warm breath in the hollow of his collar bone. He could literally feel the man’s lips move against his sensitive throat as the deep, chesty vibrations of Wade’s voice rattled his very bones. 

“The phone?” Peter may have worded it like a question, but it was actually more of a prayer. 

A prayer that went unanswered when Wade hesitated a little too long.

“Wade, what did you drop?” Peter asked insistently.

“My pants?” The question was hesitantly offered in answer.

Peter’s body jolted beneath Wade’s, smacking the man's head against the ceiling of the box in his panic. And, boy, could he feel the difference all of the sudden. That definitely wasn’t a gun pressing incessantly into lower back anymore. “How did you drop your pants?!” The box was suddenly ten times hotter, which just went to prove that, while they might not be suffocating, the air in the confined box was quickly going stale between their panicked breaths. 

“Well, see…uh. So I was trying to get to the phone? And when the box shifted I accidentally unbuttoned my pants instead of the pouch?” Wade hastened to assure, “I swear it wasn’t on purpose!! I would never! Consent is sexy, and this is very, very, very… uncomfortable.” 

Peter groaned, exasperated having him slumping forward and downward in a motion that probably wasn’t helpful to Wade, making Peter shudder at the growing bulge nestled right between his unfortunately (or maybe fortunate) cheeks. But hey, if Wade wasn’t going to mention it, neither was Peter. Both of them were grown men. They knew the perils of friction in intimate places. Wade’s reaction was absolutely normal for anyone in his position. Even the straightest of straight men would have been popping a boner given the friction and constant vibrations from the off roading vehicle they were no doubt trapped on. “Did your entire utility belt drop with your pants?”

“Yes, but it’s still around my thighs,” Wade wiggled his hips, trying to reach it again without much luck. The only thing he seemed to be doing was carving out a wider place between Peter’s legs. Peter huffed and wriggled, spreading his legs as far as their confinement would allow with Wade’s movements, bowing his back to give him more room. “It’s too far for me. You may be able to reach between your legs and get it.”

Peter dropped his head down and looked. He couldn’t very well see it in the dark, but he could hear the rattling of the buckle against the floor. “Okay. Try to hold yourself up. I’m going down.”

He felt Wade jostle against his back, then Peter heard a, “Yep, up is definitely something my body can do right now,” when he must have realized Peter couldn’t see him nod. 

“Ready?” Peter felt Wade, who already seemed pretty flattened against the top of the container, shift back even further with a grunt of effort. Peter lowered his shoulders as flat as he could against the metal flooring, raising his hips as high as he could into Wade’s front to give him more space to reach between his legs and fumble blindly at Wade’s tense and trembling thighs. He attempted to remain as still as possible for Peter’s sake. 

“I feel it,” Peter grunted, victorious despite the quite honestly embarrassing position he found himself in. It was definitely a position he had pictured in his mind many times with his hand also grasping between his legs, but for a whole other reason. Like earlier that very morning in the shower. It was Valentine’s day, after all. Even if he wasn’t going to spend it with someone, he wasn’t going to spend it _alone._ But he was going to be professional and try very hard not to think about what he had been doing earlier. He was more than a little thankful that Wade couldn’t see his face, and the container was so cold against his burning cheek. 

Wade made a muffled sound and jerked a little. “Nope! You definitely grabbed the wrong thing! Abort, abort!”

“Hold still, Wade,” Peter grunted, “I almost had it.” 

“Can you maybe move a little farther away from the family jewels?” Wade muttered. “I don’t think you meant to, but my underwear were not made for this kind of friction. And you just…”

Oh. That strangely warm, spongy thing that had hit Peter’s wrist had been… and instead of a belt, he had just pulled…

“Please tell me that wasn’t the elastic of your underwear I was just pulling on?”

“That _wasn’t_ the elastic of my underwear you were just pulling on,” Wade mocked. “My dick is also ABSOLUTELY not sticking out of my last line of defense after you attempted to give me a _wedgie_.”

 _Oh_. 

“S-sorry,” Peter gulped, pressing his heated face a little more purposefully into the cool metal, pressing his eyes shut and biting back a moan. He really didn’t need to be reminded of that right now. He really, really didn’t need to be reminded of the fact his thin costume was the only thing separating Peter’s all but presented ass from Wade’s dick. He hadn’t thought he was reaching that high along Wade’s thigh! He definitely didn’t need Wade to fan the already rampant flames of Peter’s imagination. Peter had seen the bulge. It was kind of hard not to notice when all of the heroes you worked with also opted to wear skin tight outfits. 

The thought that, if Peter cared a little bit less about Wade as a person, or if their relationship was less flirty and more serious, or if they weren’t _trapped in a box_ , Peter could confidently reach between their legs and grab Wade’s cock. Peter would be able to know right away if Wade was hard and leaking, if he felt the same way that Peter did in this position. He wondered for a moment, while he pretended to fumble around a while longer than he maybe should have, what kind of strangled noise Wade would make if Peter pretended to accidentally cup his balls on his quest for the belt. How big were they? Was he really scarred all over like he claimed? 

Peter’s hips canted purely on instinct, which made Peter realize how extremely hard he had become while letting his fantasies run wild. He played it off as though he was simply trying to get a better angle, wiggling back and forth a few times to sell it, and absolutely not for any other reason than that. His wrist accidentally rubbed against the tented fabric of his own spandex when he reached, and he began subtly humping his wrist once or twice when he realized this was probably going to be the closest thing he would ever get to the real thing, especially if they ended up dying at the hands of their enemies. He knew it was leaving a damp spot behind on both his glove and his uniform, but that was future Spider-Man’s problem. 

The realization that everyone would know exactly how Wade made him feel had Peter faking an enthusiastic gasp and an “I think I have it.” He probably hadn’t needed to, considering how Wade had hissed out a quiet groan against his shoulder, body tense and breathing hitched. Still, some part of Peter really hoped when they got out Wade would notice his dripping hard on. Maybe even make a stupid remark about it and make Peter blush. 

Peter finally located and tugged on the belt. And of _course_ the stupid thing was stuck on something. He pulled on it harder. “Crap, it’s stuck. I’m trying, just give me another minute.” 

He felt something tug against his hips and then a loud tearing sound echoed through the tiny box. 

Peter squeezed his eyes shut in mortification as a light breeze brushed against his now unfortunately bare bottom, confirming Wade’s theory that the henchmen wouldn’t drag superheroes off in a box that would suffocate them. 

“Was that your pants this time?” Wade asked, a lilting laugh now lining his slightly breathless voice. 

Peter heaved out a sigh. “Shut up.” 

“So I’m not the only one having a wardrobe malfunction?”

“Please be quiet.” 

Wade didn’t say anything else, but his giggling spoke enough without words about how hilarious he thought the situation was. 

“I can’t get it close enough to grab the pouch.” Peter’s frustrated words are enough to stop Wade’s giggles. 

“Why not?” Wade demanded. “This is _not_ a good position for us to stop in, Spidey-Babe.”

“If I keep pulling, I’m just going to tear it even more.”

The silence was heavy with only the sound of their breathing before Peter felt more than heard Wade take a deep breath. “Okay,” Wade said. “Can you reach the button on the top pouch?”

Peter stretched his arm down under his body, smashing his face into the floor, and could just brush his fingertips against the button. “Yeah, just let me-” he grunted, contorting his body and stretching his arm as far as he could. It had the side-effect of raising his ass high enough that he could definitely feel Wade brushing against him. And by Wade, he actually meant–

“Is that your dick?”

“Why aren’t _you_ wearing any underwear?” Wade stressed a little more urgently as both of them went through the sudden and horrifying realization that Wade was hotdogging Peter’s ass. “And why are you so… wet?”

The container jerked slightly, the tip of Wade’s erection kissing Peter’s betrayingly interested, no doubt winking hole, making his heart nearly give out. ”I-I was in the shower when you called!” He clutched the bottom of the container as he tried to breath through the now continuous rattling of the van, which did little more than continue to rub Wade’s moistening cockhead through the slick heat between Peter’s legs, nudging against Peter’s sensitive perineum and tickling his tightening balls. “You sounded urgent. I didn't have the time to get dressed, much less towel off before throwing on the suit!” Peter lied, hoping Wade wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between lube and water while overcoming the shock of their current predicament. He tried to clamp his legs together the best he could to hold Wade’s dick still between his legs so he could think a little easier, but that didn’t work. He was far too lubed up from the shower and the movement along with the rattling of the crate quickly became an involuntary thigh fucking that had the both of them thrashing and gasping for breath. 

“S-stop moving!”

“I’m trying!”

Of course, that had to be the very moment the box they were traveling in was jolted _heavily_ forward. Peter’s head smacked the bottom corner of their prison _hard_ as Wade’s full body (unable to hold its position against the far back corner any longer from when he tried to distance himself from Peter despite the length of his dick making that nearly impossible) was pitched forward, slamming into Peter at full force. 

And that wasn’t the only thing that slammed into Peter. 

He felt the moment the head of Wade’s hard cock breached his entrance, forcing its way past any resistance, filling Peter so suddenly and completely that he could do little more than continue to lay with his ass up and face pressed up against the cool container floor, mouth open in a silent scream and beginning to drool as his breath was stolen from him by the sheer size and girth of the cock that was now firmly seated in him, splitting him open him in ways he never imagined in his wildest fantasies, reshaping him in a way the dildo he was using that morning never had. 

He was suddenly very, very thankful that he had been doing a little more than showering before he got the call, otherwise he would have hurt a whole lot more than the hot, all encompassing stretch he was currently feeling did. 

“Oh, my sweet holy god, fuck, shit–” Wade tried to pull back without success, another heavy thump of the vehicle shoving him forward into Peter again. 

Peter couldn’t help the cry that wrenched from his throat. Wade’s dick rubbed right up against Peter’s prostate almost painfully hard. Hard enough to make him see stars beneath his clenched eyelids as he reflexively clamped down on the foreign object penetrating him.

Wade whined brokenly. “Holy shit, Webs, I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t mean to, just- just-” he hiccuped on a sob. “Don’t move, don’t move, let me back up.”

 _“No!”_ Peter cried out, breath catching in his chest at the friction of the retreating cock, whimpering at the intense way his enhanced senses, especially in the dark, made him nearly come right then and there as Wade’s dick rubbed against his prostate even harder on the way out as Wade tried to angle his body to better extract himself. “S-stop moving! It hurts when you- it’s too much when you–“ Peter trembled, knees wanting to give out at the near overstimulation, but his legs were already as wide as the box would allow. 

Wade froze, another choked sob trembling through the air. He wasn’t sure if it was Wade’s or his own. “It was an accident, Peter, I’m so fucking sorry, I would never-- I, I wouldn’t...I–” Peter could hear Wade’s gasping breaths and he could feel the sobs subtly shaking his body. 

Peter cried out again as Wade shifted his angle, fumbling between their legs, and his cockhead rubbed right against his prostate. That was it, that was too much for Peter’s poor body and he clenched up, forcing himself as far back onto Wade’s cock as he could, and almost blacked out when the force of his orgasm shook him harder than their captor’s reckless driving ever could. He was convulsing on Wade’s cock and he couldn’t even stop himself as he cried out the other man’s name. 

His body fell limp against the floor, ass still forced up against Wade’s very much excited crotch as he continued to tremble in the aftermath, suddenly feeling very cold without Wade’s body heat against his back. Wade, who had stopped trying to remove himself completely from Peter after his last outburst, but was still holding the rest of himself as far away from Peter as possible and still mumbling out apologies and entreaties about it being an accident. 

Peter panted into the floor and couldn’t help the twitching of his hips as he undulated gently against Wade, lube from that morning easing the way more and more the longer Wade stayed seated in him, leaving Peter hanging from his proud cock. The way the container continued to bump and jolt with what must have been the occasional pothole only added to the unpredictability of their movements, and how deep it would drive them together as long, torturous moments of silence passed between the two as they tried to catch their breath. 

Peter was going to get hard again, and he was too far gone to stop. He silently prayed that Wade would forgive him and he hadn’t been joking all those times before when their heroic banter turned into the heavy flirting that neither of them were quite certain should be taken any further outside of their patrols. Obviously, circumstances beyond their control decided to take it further for them. 

Peter felt a sharp rush of pleasure as he heard Wade whimper again, another bump on the road and cant of Peter’s hips driving him deeper into Peter’s tight heat. 

“Peter, please, you can’t keep–” 

“Holy shit, that feels amazing,” Peter interrupted before Wade could stop him. 

Wade spluttered and choked on a whimper at that announcement, “I-I don’t think you- what?”

Peter’s hand slowly reached back and over, trying to find where Wade had positioned his own hand on the wall when he had tried to pull off. Once he found the clenching fingers, Peter used a minimal amount of super strength to force it off the wall, earning a keen and a slight cant of Wade’s hip into Peter’s welcoming heat at the display of strength. It made Peter preen in excitement, knowing such a big, strong, powerful man was enticed by the mere hint that Peter would be capable of making him bend if he really wanted, no doubt reminding Wade that, if Peter really didn’t want this, he could easily stop it, limited space be damned. 

Peter directed Wade’s trembling hand down his front, brushing scarred fingers over his sensitive nipples and letting Wade feel the way his chest was heaving, then down further, where his stomach muscles tensed and rippled. They continued to follow Peter’s set path, guiding and directing their intertwined, wandering fingers further, further, across his abdomen, directly downward to where some of his come had landed, and then straight to his now spent but quickly twitching back to life cock. 

Wade’s head dropped down onto his shoulder blades as a startled, disbelieving sob ripped from his chest. His frantic fingers cupped Peter’s cock a little too excitedly, tearing another moan out of Peter’s tightly strung body when he felt blood rapidly leave his brain and drain straight to his dick. “Did you really…?”

“Yeah,” Peter said through panting breaths, twitching his hips back again and humming in pleasure at Wade’s resulting grunt. “You’re really big. Bigger than I expected. Not that I was expecting _this,_ but… I mean. Since I’m being honest here, I should probably let you know that all of that flirting you do? It is kind of hard to get it out of my head sometimes.” 

This had to be a dream, but it felt too real. 

Peter bucked his hips back, earning a much more enthusiastic groan from Wade this time for his trouble. He canted his hips forward into Wade’s palm, purposefully grinding his own palm into Wade’s when he hesitated a bit too long to grasp Peter’s quickly refilling cock. 

“Do you want to know what I was doing when you called?”

“W-what?” Wade stuttered out, his fingers finding their own grip, allowing Peter’s hand to fall away. 

“I was in the shower, thinking about you and all of the teasing things you say to me during our patrols as I fucked myself. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you how many times I’ve fantasized about your cock.” 

“As many times as I’ve fantasized about yours?”

The next movement came from Wade. He pulled back and thrust forward, pulling his hand over Peter’s cock as he moved. “I can still stop if you want me to. Just say the word.”

“Don’t stop,” Peter whimpered, picking up the rhythm and rocking his body in time to Wade’s thrusts. 

“So why weren’t you wearing underwear, naughty boy?” 

Peter gasped and jolted as Wade tilted his hips and hit right on his prostate again. “Holy-! Right there, harder!”

Wade followed the command, snapping his hips just a tiny bit harder, sending a jolt through Peter’s body every time he bottoms out. “Come on, tell me. You like to go commando and think about what I might do to you?” 

“Ye-Yes! Right there- I-I mean- You c-called while I was in the shower!” 

“Hmmm… well, we may have to make that the norm from now on, shouldn’t we? I like the idea of being able to have easy access on those long, cold nights where nobody comes out to play. Maybe bend you over. Or, on occasion, maybe you wouldn’t mind me bending a knee or two for a snack when the pizza just isn’t filling enough for the appetite I’ve worked up.” The longer they talked, the more confident Wade’s body became, making Peter’s usually very active mouth stutter and moan more than spit back witty remarks. 

“Yes! Yes! Just don’t stop! I want- I want you, Wade!”

The words have Wade’s hips stuttering and losing rhythm for a second. He ground in as deep as Peter’s body allowed before he started thrusting in even faster. “Fuck, Petey, you feel so fucking good. I’m so close.” 

Peter just whimpered in response, hand coming up to take over where Wade’s has stopped moving on Peter’s cock, too focused on his own pleasure now. 

“Don’t stop,” Peter panted between strokes, finally finding the courage and breath to force between pants and moans what he had been wanting to say for years. “Want to feel you inside of me. Wanted it for so long. Want to feel that burn between my legs in the morning. Feel it when I swing across the city, and know you have me. Know I have you.”

“Yeess,” Wade hissed, thrusting hard one more time, slamming into Peter’s prostate and freezing in place, muttering feverishly. “Fuck, _fuck,_ I’m coming and you’re gonna be dripping with me.” 

Wade locked one arm just beneath Peter’s shoulders, wrapping across his torso to his shoulder and locking him into place against Wade’s chest in what would have no doubt been a bruising hold if he weren’t Spider-Man. Peter could do little more than hang there in Wade’s arms and on Wade’s cock as it twitched inside him and Wade ground against him with a few throaty grunts. “Next time we do this I’m gonna eat you out right after, when you’re all messy and wet and needy. Make you come on my tongue.” 

“I want it,” Peter gasped, frantically jerking his cock. He loved the feeling of Wade throbbing inside him and he was so, so close to coming again. 

They were so caught up in the magic of the moment, listening to their own vocal grunts and groans bounce off the interior of the case, not to mention the way they were bouncing off of each other, that neither of them noticed the way the box had mysteriously stopped moving. Nor had they noticed the sounds exploding from outside the container leading up to the sudden stop. 

They definitely didn’t notice the lid opening till the pitch black was suddenly illuminated by the sun’s brilliant rays. “They seem to be transporting cargo of some kind,” a heavy, Russian accent boomed through the once private enclosed space. “W-what’s this?!” 

There’s definitely some pearl clutching horror in that voice and Peter flinches, instinctively dropping his cock. It almost hurts, he’s that close to coming, but some buried sense of decency has him instinctively not wanting to orgasm in from of Colossus, an _X-man_ , of all people!

Of course Wade takes the interruption with aplomb, popping up out of the box like a demented prairie dog, yanking his pants up along the way, leaving Peter inside, suddenly very empty, and very much wishing he could die of embarrassment. “Heeeyyy, buddy! Long time no see.” 

Colossus quickly and rather audibly, considering he was made of metal, clanged his hand over his eyes, peaking uncomfortably between forked fingers. “Wade? Wha- Who?” Of course, they had to land on Peter’s very debauched body. He really hoped the come wasn’t that obvious at this angle. Or the way he was no doubt gaping despite how tightly strung his body was everywhere else. “WADE!”

“Oh my god, no,” Peter whimpered into the floor. His suit was still very much ripped, even if his naked and dripping ass wasn’t noticeably on display, which realistically, knowing Peter’s luck, it was. 

He felt a shadow move over him. “Coming out, Spidey?”

“Please kill me now,” Peter whimpered again. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Wade’s hand settled on Peter’s shoulder, “Did I hurt you?” 

“Wade?” Peter lifted his head to level a glare at the other man. Which of course he wouldn’t see, considering Wade managed to stay fully dressed and Peter’s also still wearing his mask. 

“Do you need help?” Wade worriedly leaned over, hands fluttering over Peter’s shoulders as Peter slowly lifted himself up to sit back on his feet with a wince as his well used body protested the change of position. 

“Please find me something to put around my waist,” Peter ground out through gritted teeth.

“Oh!” Wade exclaimed, straightening up with a jerk. “Uh, yeah, let me just–” he flicks his thumb over his shoulder. Peter keeps his glare trained on the mercenary’s back as he somehow managed to force his huge body into a timid looking scurry back toward Colossus’ now turned away form.

“Got any extra pants on you, Metal Man?” 

He quickly and quietly pointed in the direction of a group of round up and incapacitated bad guys. “Please. Be my guest.” 

Peter felt his face heat even more at the appalled tone the man managed to force out, sounding more disappointed than disgusted, like he really expected better from Wade. Peter’s heart softened a bit at the thought that there were a few other people out there that believed in Wade. 

Peter watched through his mask as Wade skipped over to the henchmen and began to size them up. Upon finding one that matched all of his internal criteria, he pounced on the bound and squirming individual, no doubt seeking vengeance for the entire situation they had been forced into, no matter how good it had ended. For him at least. Peter was still half hard, despite the way terror at being discovered had doused his libido like he’d been dipped in a bucket of ice water. 

Colossus awkwardly cleared his throat, making Peter even more uncomfortable as he tried to grab a piece of his torn costume and stretch it enough to cover his cock. 

“It was an accident,” he stated firmly, turning his grumpy glare on Colossus. 

“Do… do you need to talk to someone about it? The ‘accident,’ that is. The school provides counselors. I’m sure one of them would be happy to-–“

“No,” Peter was quick to snap, making the X-man look at him worriedly. “It… it wasn’t a… bad accident.”

“Hey, Webs! I got you some pants!” Wade proudly proclaimed, waving the pants in the air like a trophy while Peter took in the sight of several other costumed individuals spread out around the area whose attention was quickly drawn to Wade’s outburst like a magnet. Colossus shot Peter one last look, as if to say, ‘are you sure about that?’ 

Peter sunk lower into the crate, but couldn’t help smiling as Wade bounded over to him like an overly excited retriever puppy. 

Peter was quick to slide the pants on, pleasantly surprised that wade had been able to guess his size. He was quick to stand up, then, as if to prove Colossus wrong in his prior assessment of the two of them, he quickly rolled up his mask and grabbed Wade by the shoulders, yanking his mask up as well. When the mercenary’s knees refused to bend out of shock, Peter was quick to pull Wade down into a dip, sealing their lips together for all to see. 

Wade’s mouth dropped open in shock, hands frantically coming up to grab at the back of Peter’s mask, pulling him closer, one of Wade’s feet even popping up like the fairytale princesses he was oddly obsessed about. 

“Well, that is a little more convincing,” Colossus murmured after a few moments, smiling and turning away from where Deadpool and Spider-Man were still kissing. “I suppose this is as good a time as any to wish you both a Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Wade pulled away just long enough to lock his alarmed gaze onto Colossus. “Valentine’s Day?!”

“Didn’t you know?” Peter muttered, lips coming up to nip at the ear that was just peeking out from beneath Wade’s mask. “All of the best Valentine’s gifts come in a box.”

Wade winked at Peter. “Hey! That means you’re my valentine, doesn’t it?”


End file.
